


Solar Boys

by betweenhellandyou



Category: Gameboys (Web Series 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ash Malanum, Best friends Gameboys AU, Directed by Ivan Andrew Payawal, Gameboys is the standard, M/M, Perci Intalan and Jun Lana as Executive producers, Philippine BL Series, Tagalog-English, The IdeaFirst Company, bl series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26400763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betweenhellandyou/pseuds/betweenhellandyou
Summary: Best friends can kiss each other under the sheets, right?Cairo and Gavreel are, in the most cliché sense of it all, best friends.Six years and counting.Between visits to each other’s houses, the drunkenly (intentional and not) taken photos, and most of all: exchanges that are alibied as sleep talk – maybe, just maybe, they’re ready to take their little world outside.
Relationships: Gavreel Alarcon/Cairo Lazaro
Comments: 21
Kudos: 36





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Kudos and comments are very much appreciated. Enjoy!

“Tits?” Cairo asked in a squeaky voice, lifting his head up to stare at Gavreel in shock. 

Without removing focus on his phone, Gavreel nods. “Tits.”

“Balahurang ‘to! Anong tinawag mo kay mama?” Cairo sputters, tugging forcefully at Gavreel’s ear.

“Pucha! Aray ko naman, Cai! Ano ba’ng mali sa sinabi ko, ha?” As Gavreel caresses his reddened ear, he sits up and lightly pushes off Cairo’s hip lying across his chest.

 _Ba’t pinaalis mo ako? Gusto ko nga diyan, eh._ Cairo thinks, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt in an attempt to conceal his pouting from the sudden lack of contact with Gavreel.

“Tits? As in, w-what . . . b-breasts? Huwag mo sabihin na yun lang ang nakikita mo–!”

Before Cairo can finish his question, Gavreel pulls him by the waist. “O, balik.”

Cairo’s brows scrunch together, a gesture of ‘huh?” when Gavreel rolls his eyes and mutters a tsk. “Sabi ko, pwede ka na ulit humiga sa akin. Akala ko ba – matalino ka?”

He resists the itch to shyly smile, instead making a face at Gavreel. Cairo quietly places his head back on Gavreel’s chest. _Matalino nga, pero pag dating sa’yo nagiging bobo ako._

He waits for a beat before going back to their argument.

“Gago. Pero back to the topic, ano ba kasing pinagsasabi mo diyan? Ang bastos talaga ng bibig mo, walang mintis!” Cairo keeps his gaze far from reaching Gavreel’s eyeline.

His best friend has now turned off his phone, as it lays flat on the bedside drawer. The phone buzzes three times. Each text glows from an unknown number.

But then Gavreel says, “Mas gago ka. Kung anu-ano pinag-iisip mo. Sinubukan ko lang naman bigyan ng nickname si Tita. So, “tits” as in short for “tita”.”

Hearing this, Cairo struggles to answer back a retort with his mouth slowly opening then closing. The boy next to him (well, _below_ him? since he has his head love-sickeningly cradled atop his chest) grins.

Gavrel clicks his tongue, forming a smirk around his stupid face. “Alam mo . . .”

Cairo could only hold his breath.

“A-Ano?” And damn it, Cairo scolds himself – why did he have to stutter _and_ tilt his head up to meet Gavreel’s twinkling eyes; they’re dancing with mischief.

Cairo’s cheeks turn pink, getting tickled by the warmth of Gavreel’s breathy chuckle.

“Wala,” He quickly dismisses, rolling his tongue around the edges of his lips.

It’s like, Gavreel has let go of his initial answer, and it’s fucking scary, because he’s thought of something _better._ It’s something that’ll tease Cairo _more._

And the thing is, fuck it if Cairo knew better. He knows very well that if he annoys Gavreel about this, he will fall deeper into the trap.

Fuck this, fuck him, and fuck everything. 

Cairo does it anyway.

“Ano nga kasi yun, ‘koy?” His voice is oh, so soft, with doe eyes and messy thick hair.

Plus, the main event is Cairo’s glossy lips. All of _this_ , is blinking at Gavreel.

He wants to drink him in, but not as temporary as Gavreel would drink vodka with that fiery sensation tiring itself by the end of the night.

And not even the last drops of liquor lapping at his throat will chase a memorable enough feel.

Not even the adrenaline rush he gets when playing basketball, as the sun strikes him hot and breezy with the swiftness of it all, only for his knees to turn into jelly at the sight of Cairo by the bleachers.

He never misses any of his games; Cairo’s always there, with a cold Gatorade to hand him during breaks.

Not even his first whiff of _pandesal_ in the morning, on his way to Aling Kusing’s sari-sari store (because it’s the faster route to Cairo’s house).

And the nickname “koy” is a shortened “kolokoy”. The meaning of “kolokoy” is someone who’s a prankster, one who likes to joke a lot, and perhaps in a way . . . Cairo would rather it be that way.

He can live with the idea of _them_ being a joke, but never as a lie. He will take this, over words like _liar, pretender, hypocrite, etc._

It could’ve been “sinungaling”, “manloloko”, “ipokrito”, and more. (But aren’t those all synonymous to being a prankster?)

Whatever, the nickname “kolokoy” sounds better.

Gavreel tries to answer him just as softly, “Ang cute mo, ano?”

Yet . . .

Cairo _beats him_ to it.

He narrows his eyes down at Gavreel, shooting a fake irritated smirk at him. Cairo’s hands carefully slide up to the latter’s torso, rubbing his thumbs on whichever skin he can find.

Gavreel can’t move, he is goddamn frozen, but no one can tell that he’s getting frustrated at the slowness of the moment, because his face is eagerly watching Cairo’s every move.

Finally, fucking, fucking, _fucking_ finally, Cairo’s hands grip the bottom of his hair.

He even has the decency to thrum his fingers over Gavreel’s nape, while waiting for an answer. As if to ask, _pass or play?_

“Game.” Gavreel’s voice is lighter than a whisper, and before he finishes the word, Cairo bares all teeth in his smile, pressing his lips onto his – the word forgotten in their mouths.

Cairo still hasn’t stopped smiling, so Gavreel keeps grunting because _why_ isn’t he allowed to bite his best friend’s lips more firmly?

He needs to touch Cairo more, wants _not_ to take these slow and steady, needs to bury his fingers in the scalp of him, and wants to print infinite copies of his lips so it could kiss each mole of his.

To him, Cairo alternates between a want and need, simply because it is _impossible_ for Gavreel to choose anyone else over and over again, and depend on – like he's his own fucking set of lungs.

( _Ikaw ang pipiliin ko, kahit na sino pa ang handang_ pumalit _sa’yo._ Gavreel thinks, pulling Cairo on top of him.)

( _Kailangan kita._ Gavreel thinks, holding Cairo’s chin as he splays butterfly kisses on his cheeks.)

( _Kung tatanungin mo kung paano ‘ko napagtanto, sinubukan ko na’t dinala pa rin ako ng aking mga paa patungo sa landas mo._ Gavreel thinks, pressing a kiss on Cairo’s forehead.)

Cairo suddenly stops. His breathing is heavy as he rests his head on Gavreel’s shoulder.

A few seconds later, with Gavreel’s fingers tapping on Cairo’s lower back, the latter says, “Gav”,

It takes Gavreel another couple of seconds to answer. “Hm?” 

Cairo snuggles his head further into his neck. “Sino yung kanina pa text nang text sa cellphone mo?”

“Ha?” Is Gavreel’s immediate reply. Hell, Cairo _doesn’t_ want to leave his lap but if . . .

“I said”, Cairo braces his elbows on Gavreel’s shoulders, caging his head in the center. He’s feeling powerful today, so, fuck it.

He brushes a stray strand of Gavreel’s curly hair away. “Sino.” He moves his lips very close to his ear, “Yung”. Cairo bites his ear’s helix. “Unknown number.” Then he places a wet, open-mouthed kiss on the side of his neck.

 _"_ Fuck,” Gavreel can’t take it anymore – he all but gasps. “Hindi ko kilala, ‘koy,” He forces himself to sound calm but he fails. “G-Gusto mo bang t-tignan ‘ko?”

This time, it’s Cairo who lets out a roar of laughter.

“Sure, _baby_.” Gavreel has no time to think, because Cairo’s husky, teasing voice easily drowns with the sound of his lips crashing once again onto his.

_Bakit ba kasi ako pumayag na marami tayong tawagan para sa isa’t-isa?_

Gavreel’s mind has short-circuited. His shirt has long been thrown to the floor, Cairo’s lips peppering his chest, when a megaphone speaker outside the street horns.

_“Magandang hapon Barangay Makiling! Iboto si Tony Bagatsing ngayong eleksiyon bilang inyong Mayor!”_

“Pu-ta,”

“Badtrip,”

At the same time, Gavreel and Cairo curse under their breaths.

Has the moment passed?

Cairo slowly slides off Gavreel’s lap. He slumps his back on the bedframe, automatically grabbing Gavreel’s arm to wrap around his shoulders; tucking himself under his best friend’s chin.

He sort of, (totally) can’t stand it – losing skin-to-skin contact with Gavreel for more than a minute.

The boy next to him has turned still. He nudges his best friend’s waist, trying to bring him back to the present. “Gav, huy,”

No answer.

Cairo flicks his thumb against Gavreel’s forehead. This, makes Gavreel return to his senses, groaning in frustration. “Sayang naman, eh!”

“Ayan tayo eh. Wala ka na ba talagang hiya, ‘koy?” Cairo giggles, as he teasingly juts his face to Gavreel’s sour one.

But then Gavreel’s frown is quickly replaced with a grimace, “Okay lang,” He scoffs. “Alam nating dalawa ikaw naman ang nanguna ngayon baby, eh.”

Cairo sputters for a coherent retort, eventually sighing in defeat. He quickly gets a grip on his cool; a habit that Gavreel observed is activated only towards him.

 _“Whatever, baby.”_ The term of endearment slides off Cairo’s tongue effortlessly, the shell of Gavreel’s ear blushing a soft shade of pink.

It ends just like this. Most times, at least.

Gavreel’s cheekbones hurt from smiling _too much,_ and so does Cairo’s, which they try to dial down by going into a tickle fight. It’s messy because of the scrape of nails, the hurried breaths, the tangling of sweat . . . Their game of touches – while sticky, chaotic, loud, and rough – nevertheless tedious to play, it snowballs into a wrestling match. There are no kisses, no, _if_ they’re at the brink of death and forced to admit their most kept secrets, and say their last words – _none._ Because this shall exist between them, in the middle of their aligned planes of hips, and there alone it must squeeze into for eternity. What a joke; a lie; a whispered prayer; a confession; a fucking ritual; a now unexplainable phenomenon.

They call it being quarrelsome, like how two naïve boys who are best friends often describe it. _Where do the bounds go? What do we transform into if the silver chains on our necks – yours you’ve made as an ankle bracelet, mine I carry around bouncing off my heartbeat – burst into mere pearls? The last time I checked on incognito tab, they still don’t make batteries for that organ inside our chests, so what if yours runs out? And I can no longer electrify you with what is left of me, what has left me, what is leaving me . . . will you? Will you please not, leave me, that is?_

Cairo’s here, and Gavreel’s there, and the other is everywhere, but never without each other.

Somewhere around 4 o’clock PM in the afternoon, they bristle out of the white walls of Cairo’s bedroom. Gavreel wordlessly borrows a fresh tank top from his closet, while Cairo leans his back on the door waiting for him.

The Coleman jug sits on the nearest cupboard on their way out into the living room. Cairo grabs this, handing it to Gavreel to fill up with water from the dispenser – five tiles to the west.

They pad to the main door of the house, ready with duffle bags (faded ones gifted to them by Gavreel’s dad, Tito Paeng, years ago when they were crazy little six year olds) containing their extra shirt and first aid kit. 

Cairo and Gavreel always arrive at the gang’s spot irritatingly early, so they have the basketball court to themselves for some minutes. The streets are filled with kids running around, their squeals fluttering above air. The familiar trill of various things all at once: rustling of bicycle gears, chimes from the ice cream vendor, the bell clanging from the church, so on and so forth – in the provincial town they grew up in.

They walk together side-by-side, arms swinging restlessly, no room for another, yet still not quite touching.

Behold, their shadows crystallize at the first sight of sun.


	2. Chapter 1 | Chest to chest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek into the way Cairo and Gavreel orbit around each other inside the basketball court.
> 
> Who else is part of their team, and who mighty dares to play against them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support. 
> 
> Please continue giving kudos and comments. Much love!

**Chapter 1 | Chest to chest**

Word count (5, 627 words)

—

_The sun is shining brightly, but it is still your presence that warms every fiber of my being._

Ah, shit.

Gavreel forgot to pick up the basketball under Cairo's bed.

He starts shuffling through his duffle bag, when Cairo hits his knuckles on his knee.

"Nakalimutan mo, 'no?"

"Hindi, 'di . . . 'di yun pwede kasi, ano ba naman 'yan, responsibilidad ko yun eh–,"

Gavreel continues to huff irritated noises, as Cairo just puckers his lips releasing a bubble bursting sound.

_What a tease._

Cairo gives him a few more seconds, before he says, "Okay lang, 'koy. Ako naman na nagdala ngayon,"

Gavreel then stops furiously shaking his duffle bag. "Sorry, Cai. Aalahanin ko next time, pramis."

Cairo smirks. "Okay _nga_ lang, Gav." He raises his eyebrows, and on cue wiggles them as he challenges Gavreel. "Bawi ka na lang ngayon – _subukan_ mo lang ako talunin sa laro."

Gavreel doesn't bother stifling a surprised gasp, "Aba, aba, aba baby ah!"

And he damn nearly makes Cairo stumble in his tracks, as Gavreel shoves his face to his. "Hot mo dun, pa-kiss nga?"

But Cairo is quick to catch himself; a maneuver knew knows all too well, to save himself from the inevitable fall. "G-Gav, a-ano ba?"

He has fallen for him _over and over again,_ the thrill of the jump always seeming worthwhile, yet the odds were never high enough to land on a safe place.

It varies every collapse, the height of the rocky cliffs Gavreel traps him onto, and his breathing never steadies – no matter how much times he's done it.

_Isa, dalawa, tatlo . . . kapag pumikit na ang mga mata ko, andiyan ka pa ba sa tabi ko?_

Although before Cairo can even ask him this, his vision blurs torridly due to Gavreel's blinding smile, his matching dimples not making it any _easier_ for him to get used to _this,_ so it is when his feet touch the ground that he can only wonder:

_Nakalabas na ako mula sa dilim, at alam kong nanumbalik na sa dati ang aking paningin, ngunit . . ._

_Mahal ko, sabihin mo nga sa akin – totoo ba talagang nanatili ka sa piling ko, itong buong oras na ito, o sanay ka lang talaga na linlangin ako sa realidad na hindi ikaw 'yan, hindi ikaw 'yan, hindi_ **_nga_ ** _ikaw 'yan, at ako lang 'to, ako lang 'to, ako_ **_lang naman_ ** _'to . . . buong magdamag ay mag-isa lang pala ako, dahil matagal na ang iyong paglisan?_

_Sino ka ba talaga? Saan mo ikinubli ang totoong Gavreel, at ako pa ba'y sarili ko – si Cairo pa rin ba ako? Si Cairo pa rin ba ako, kung malaman ko isang araw na napalitan na ang totoong ikaw?_  
  
_Ang totoong ikaw na minsa'y abot langit kong pinagmasdan, tinawanan, hinagkan, sinamba, pinagdasal, pinaniginipan, pinangakuan . . . hindi, mali._

_Iyong huli, ikaw lang pala ang nangako. Isa nga lang ang gagawin mo, hindi mo pa nagampanan?_  
  
_Pero 'di bale na, sa ngayon itutuloy ko na lang ang aking pagbibilang; tutal, ito lamang ang paraang alam ko na madaling bumubugaw sa mga muni-muni ko._  
  
_Apat, lima, anim . . ._ Cairo buckles down his knees on the ground. "I m-mean, ano ba? Huwag na natin patagalin 'to, diretso na lang sa laro. Ano, game?"

Cairo's not sure if within a second, he catches Gavreel's smile faltering. But the latter quickly regains composure, continuing to smile at him. "Okay, sabi mo eh,"

And so their game begins.

On a hot Tuesday, it takes Gavreel Alarcon for the 5'8'' feet dimpled, Latino-esque, sunkissed boy he is (the personification of the words "tall, dark, and handsome" if you ask Cairo,) twenty minutes and thirty-six seconds to lose their first basketball game.

"Shet naman!" Gavreel curses out loud. Still catching his breath, Cairo manages to choke out a laugh.

"Pa'no nangyare 'yun, Cai? Paano? Sabihin mo nga, paano?"

Cairo's smile only grows wider. Although he won't lie, he got scared for a second because at some point Gavreel sounded genuinely upset. 

"Sabi ko naman sa'yo eh, 'koy."

Cairo menacingly repeats what he said earlier, "Subukan mo _nga_ lang ako talunin ngayon."

And the fucker pounces on, " _Not my fault, my baby's got weak game today."_ Cairo shrugs, he actually goddamn shrugs, the smugness a turn-on for Gavreel as much as it is a pain in the ass.

 _Mine. Pa-mine nga sa lalaking 'yan, pwede ba?_ Gavreel bites his lip, to stop himself from smiling too much like he's enjoying Cairo's dominance over him. (Because he fucking _is_. _Enjoying it._ )

Gavreel decides to play along. He stubbornly claims that today, there must be some kind of glitch, because Cairo won their first game instead of him.

Nevertheless, all's fair in the game of love, right?

"O, anong tinitingin-tingin mo diyan, baby? Takot ka bang matalo kita ulit sa–," Cairo gets cut off.

"Sus," Gavreel jeers, waiting for _three, two, and one . . ._ before stripping his shirt off.

He takes his time, stretching his arms in a diamond position over his arms, twisting his hips sideways.

Gavreel pretends to fan himself, muttering an _"ang init ngayon, ah,"_ and even slowly trailing his fingers across his chest, all the way down to his belly button.

He keeps pulling the garter of his shorts, a lame excuse for being 'fidgety' due to the heat, when Cairo snaps himself out the reverie.

 _Because imagine how Gavreel's abs must feel like under his touch right now, the smooth skin pressed against his own_ –

"O-Oo nga, m-mainit pero kalian naman hindi naging mainit sa Pinas?" Cairo manages to croak out.

"Hm, tama ka naman." Gavreel is now stepping towards him, and _why is he brighter than the sun itself?_

"Anyway, alam mo baby, hindi eh. May mali ngayong araw, kaya ko pa bumawi sa'yo. Rematch, bet?"

He licks his lips as he says this, and Cairo has to look away before he tells Gavreel to drag him back home (so they can play _better_ games than this . . . like, you know, making-out).

Cairo nods, he's very determined. Gavreel nods back, rapidly throwing the ball to the former's direction.

They bump each other multiple times. It's this snappy dance, a leg of Cairo touches his, and their chests press together – in the spur of a lay-up; their knees grazing as one dribbles the basketball.

But prior to this – it's been a tradition of theirs, that whoever has the majority of losses in the month, will dazzle the winner with a _strip tease._

Most times, it's _not_ the loser between Cairo and Gavreel, in whichever claustrophobic, ill-lighted, and moist room they're in . . . that pulls at the side seams of his own shirt; but **actually** the crowned victor that _impatiently_ plucks it free from the other boy's torso.

( _"Tanginang 'yan, ang bagal, bagal, bagal–", "O, o, o-,"_ Gavreel barks a boisterous laughter. _"Hindi ka pwede kumita bilang macho dancer, gago."_ Cairo's hands are everywhere, _fucking everywhere,_ and it's so rambunctious; _"PUTA,"_ He yelps, still uncontrollably giggling, _"ANSARAP KAYA netong katawan ko, puro ako workout–,"_ His sweet, not-so-sweet, Cairo _scrapes_ his fingernails on Gavreel's back. _"Sinabi,"_ A drag. _"Ko bang,"_ A drag. _"Hindi mo_ ** _kaya?"_** A hard, long drag across his chest to his sensitive abs. **_"AKIN_** _lang 'to, 'no."_

They make the mistake of wearing sleeveless shirts the next day, only to have Pearl gaping at them. _"Nakipag-away ba kayo kay_ ** _WOLVERINE_** _kahapon? ANG LALAN– I MEAN, ang lala niyo!"_ )

Anyway, back to present.

Gavreel does his "cheat move", where he twerks on his opponent while energetically dribbling the ball.

But Cairo, an equally ferocious rival, just thinks _Sige lang, Gav. Landiin mo lang ako, kaya ko namang sabayan ka diyan,_ and doesn't try to hide his enjoyed grimaces.

Their second match of basketball ends with Cairo remaining victorious.

"Koy," Gavreel is heavily panting, "seryoso ka ba?"

Even if he's as breathless, Cairo lets out a chortle. "Seryosong-seryoso, baby."

"Pucha naman, ano ba'ng mali sa akin ngayong araw?"

Before Cairo can respond with a witty remark, a familiar sounding belly laugh comes into hearing.

"Nako, Gav. Don't you mean . . . anong mali sa'yo _araw-araw_?"

In a spaghetti-strapped blue dress, there is Pearl laughing, clutching her stomach with a hand gripping a plastic bag of Coca-Cola with straw.

"Natalo mo ang _baby mo_ , baby boy?" She shrieks, and Cairo just ignores the blush creeping up his cheeks (at the mention of his 'baby' being Gavreel) to laugh with Pearl.

"Sinabi mo pa, Pearl. Pa'no ba 'yan, 'koy? Mukhang _ako na_ ang hari ng court."

Gavreel opens his mouth to answer, when a voice cuts him through.

"Asus. Ni isa sa inyo ang _tunay_ na hari ng court," Their heads whip around to face Wesley, with his arms crossed in front his chest, cocky as ever.

He shakes his head disapprovingly, and then chuckles.

_"Ako kasi 'yun."_

Then bull's-eye, he points a thumb to himself, loosely pinching his faux jersey in a classic arrogant fashion.

"Ang yabang mo talaga kahit kelan, _ssob!"_ Cairo cries, releasing an exasperated groan.

Still close to him, but with a tiny amount of space, Gavreel stiffens in position. _Here they go again,_ by approximately two years early – Wesley got into town first before him.

He technically met Cairo first, being the latter's first ever "best friend".

Gavreel's always annoyed whenever Cairo refers to them _both_ as his best friends, but at least he has something Wesley can't seem to take away from him – their own little world behind closed doors.

It's the universe that only exists within the corners of Cairo's bedroom.

It's _when I sleep, I want you to stay._ It's _when I wake, I still want you to stay._

It sounds fucking cheap, though. Gavreel will always resent this, because why did he let this thing with Cairo exist only in secret?

In a place where he can't show to every other planet in their orbit, that he? Cairo? _He's mine, as I am his._

Cairo deserves more than this. Someone _more than_ what Gavreel has to offer.

"Puro ka naman salita, Torres. Bilis nga, game na tayo. G?" Gavreel calls, making Wesley's smile grow bigger.

"Oo na, mga 'to naman, 'di mabiro. Pero wala pa yung isang teammate ko, pa'no 'yan?"

"Ngek, wala pa pala si Terrence? Kelan ba 'yun hindi nawala sa tabi mo, eh, magkadikit ata kayo sa bewang," Pearl snickers, raising an eyebrow.

And right on time, said person walks into view.

Terrence is wearing a dri-fit tee and basketball shorts, plus a pair of Nike rubber shoes, as he strides to the gang. He has his bag slung over his shoulder.

"Kung maka-insulto ka naman, Pearl. I'm here now, aren't I?"

Cairo miserably fails at hiding his frown.

Because if Wesley is whom Gavreel feels insecure towards, it is similar as Terrence is for Cairo.

The idiom says, _an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth._

When it comes to Terrence, his relationship with Gavreel runs a bit . . . _deeper._ A while back, they tried to date in secret.

Terrence held him to such deal, as the former wasn't out to family and friends – their relationship (which lasted for a year) composed of dates with the whole gang, sneaky make-outs on the beachside, and basketball "practices".

Until one day, when Gavreel finally came to his senses; seeing as the stars in their rendezvous nights together don't twinkle the same anymore, the taste of kwek-kwek suddenly bland, or maybe, just everything that Terrence has made him hide at every turn . . .

Gavreel couldn't take it anymore. He waited for everyone to go out in the street, letting each drink and celebrate on a Friday night, until he had Terrence all alone to himself in his parents' dingy kitchen.

Terrence still remembers it. _"Pwede ba tayo mag-usap?"_

And that's that.

They complete their teams, by finding others also hanging by the court – Wesley takes a guy named Eric, and Terrence picks Ivan. Two girls named Abby and Vera ask Cairo and Gavreel if they could join their team.

A coin flip determines the "Gameboys" team (name picked by Cairo and Gavreel) as claimers of the first possession.

First round garners a score of 5-2, with Cairo and Gavreel's team leading. They win due to Vera's swift blocking of Terrence.

The next round, it's a little tricky.

Gavreel has two fouls, and this gets Cairo a bit frustrated; yet Abby and Vera maintain their cool. So, albeit their loss, they aren't _that_ far from catching up.

With the score 15-13, the "Revengers" team led by Terrence and Wesley wins the second round.

As for the final round, the chances of winning become harder to grasp.

Gavreel is dribbling, trying to twirl around Wesley to pass the ball to Cairo at the end of the court.

When he tries his luck to do so, he thinks Abby's got Terrence in her defense but his timing isn't right, as the latter manages to cut in for the ball.

Terrence jumps for a slam-dunk, but fails at it, so Vera lunges for the ball to shoot; yet Wesley is able to rebound it in a flash.

And _shit,_ Gavreel's preparing himself for them losing – when Wesley chuckles and runs back to the far-end of the court. _Anong trip ng ugok na 'to?_

"Wes, anong ginagawa mo? Dude, dapat mananalo na tayo!" Terrence shouts after him, resting his forearms on his knees.

Wesley just ignores him.

"Master Cai," Wesley calls out to Cairo, as he dribbles the ball in front of him. He's got an irritating smirk plastered on his face, while inching closer to the boy, sort of looming over him.

"Gusto mo ba, _patalo_ na lang ako para sa'yo?"

 _Aba't gago 'to, ah._ Gavreel wants to punch something. Anything. He wants to beg, _give me something to punch, now._

But Cairo, although covered in sweat and tired, surprises him. He stares at Wesley straight in the eye, placing his hands firmly on his waist. "Hmm pag-isipan ko, ah?"

"What about . . ."

Cairo smiles, and stomping his feet towards Wesley, making him jolt as he says, _"No way,"_ stealing the ball from his hands, and on time, flicks his hand in Gavreel's direction – signaling him to get ready for his throw.

_"Baby!"_

_Hook, line, and sinker._

Cairo's heart beats wildly at Gavreel's calling, and his best friend catches the ball on perfect timing.

Gavreel finishes it off with a three-point shot.

Viola, their team wins.

It takes Cairo every ounce of energy left in him _not_ to chase Gavreel down the court, and kiss him full on the lips.

Pearl screams loudly from where she's sitting on the bleachers, jumping up and down the air.

_

When it's starting to get dark, they're packing their bags after changing into clean shirts. It's nearing 7 PM.

Cairo has zipped up his bag, when Gavreel pokes him on the waist. "Baby, pa-tie naman ng sintas ko, 'o."

"Napaka-prinsipe mo," Yet he does it, pushing Gavreel lightly to sit on the bench as he crouches on the ground. _Kahit na ano para sa'yo, Gav._

Pearl has left a long time ago, following her parents' strict curfew. _"Kailangan ko na umalis, mga babes! Pero don't worry about me, kaya 'kong suntukin yung mga lasinggero na magtatangka na kantiyawin ako. Byieee!"_

So it's _not her,_ but Risa that notices Gavreel and Cairo preparing to leave the basketball court with Wesley and Terrence.

"O, andito pa kayong lahat?"

"Uy, Risa." Terrence greets her, tying his _own_ shoelaces.

Beside him, drinking from a bottle of water, Wesley asks, "Late na ah? Ba't naparito ka?"

"May pinabili lang si mama sa may drugstore. Kamusta game ngayon?"

"Buti natanong mo, Ris." Cairo laughs, raising his head for a moment to meet Gavreel's eyes.

"Panaaaaloooo kaaaami," Gavreel says in a singsong voice, doing a little dance with his arms.

"Hoy, isa. Ang likot mo, baby." Cairo scolds him, holding him still by the ankle.

If the scene hurts Terrence, doing a not so subtle scratch on his heart, it's not his fault he tries to hide it by bouncing his leg anxiously.

And if it pains Wesley just as much, like a rough voice hissing to his ears constantly, no one's to tell why he's stopped listening to Risa talk a few seconds ago.

_"Sinagot ko sa tatay ko – bakit kami pa na mga babae ang dapat mag-adjust ng kilos at pananamit bilang parusa para sa pambabastos ng iba sa amin?"_

". . . yun lang naman. Pero kailangan ko na rin umuwi, guys. Una na ako ha?" Risa finishes her story, waving a hand as a form of goodbye.

The boys each say their own goodbye, though . . . one more thing – before letting her leave, Cairo and Risa do their handshake together.

It's a clever choreography, their fists hitting the flat top of each, and then their elbows clap one another.

She makes Gavreel uneasy, not like the way with Wesley, but her being classmates with Cairo doesn't make that much of a difference.

The universe is playing a trick on him – for it's been two years straight that Risa's assigned to the same classroom with Cairo.

But for now, Gavreel will take what he can get.

For now, he helps Cairo get up from where he crouched to tie his shoelaces, pulling him to sit on his lap.

It doesn't startle the boy, (and this, to everyone else watching them, makes their blood boil because what _normalcy_ these two carry) because Gavreel just reasons out "Teka 'koy, hindi mo naayos yung isa, ako nga". 

For now, Risa doesn't bother calling neither Cairo nor Gavreel's attention for a last goodbye.

For now, Wesley just weakly mumbles "Sige, alis na kami. Cai, Gav," with his hunched shoulders as he turns around to walk away tells it all.

For now, Terrence can't even steal one glance from them before fully leaving.

He just jogs away with Wesley, none of them in the mood to fill the silence as they both return to their homes.

For now, for now, for now, it's Cairo and Gavreel; and Gavreel and Cairo alone once again.

It has always been like this.

Wait, no.

 _If only_ it was always like this.

_  
  
  


As they walk home, Gavreel makes his fake throbbing arm an excuse to rest it above Cairo's shoulder.

In Filipino, it's called _"akbay"_ – usually done by a person, or in this case . . . a best friend wanting to maintain closeness, so he rests his arm on the other person's shoulder.

Cairo lets him, wanting to be as close. Wanting to be as close, as he lets him, or however their circumstances let them.

They tease each other mercilessly, hitting all spots flawlessly, Gavreel pinching him on the nose, to Cairo giving him a noogie.

They eventually arrive at the Lazaro family's red gate, their laughter not once leaving the air.

_  
  


As per routine, Cairo and Gavreel quietly enter the household. The former walks ahead while Gavreel locks the gate.

They sit on the wooden chairs in the living room, removing their used rubber shoes. Gavreel passes his pair to Cairo, who places them neatly on the shoe rack by the door; where they also keep an umbrella stand.

The boys wear their labeled _tsinelas_ – Cairo's a yellow pair with his name on the strap, and Gavreel's colored purple, with the scribble of his initials on the top sole near his toes.

"Cairo? Kayo na ba 'yan ni Gav?" From the dining area, Leila wearing a soft pink long-sleeved dress – the matriarch of the Lazaro family – calls on them.

There's the sound of utensils, with London and Paris' murmurs, and their father Arthur sipping his glass of water.

"Opo, ma," Cairo answers, as he and Gavreel step into where the rest of the Lazaros are eating dinner.

"Ma, Pa," Cairo brings the back of their hands to his forehead, and so does Gavreel as he greets them, "Good evening po, Tito, Tita."

Gavreel also nods to Cairo's older brother, London, saying "Kuya 'Don," and high-fives with their youngest brother, Paris. "Musta, 'tsong?"

"O, dali, umupo na kayo para kumain kasama namin."

It's as if Gavreel's actually part of the family; which, yes, he is, but _as if_ what's left is to change his surname.

Dinner goes on like the usual: it's light and fun with Tito Arthur's corny dad jokes, the _tsismis_ heard on the streets (whatever's going on with Aling Grasya and Manong Homer), with Paris' rants about today's school, and Kuya London discussing _very_ seriously the latest stressful headline, something like another dictatorial move by the President.

Gavreel's more than content seeing Cairo with them like this – nodding, laughing, and eating along like it's okay for time to fly by.

(There are footsies underneath the table, Cairo and Gavreel's legs inching towards each other just like how it's always supposed to be, and they bow their heads for false prayers and apologizes to the Lord; because the _adobo_ be damned, when the other's calf is irresistibly warm in the shade of the four-legged piece of wooden furniture, their leg hairs brushing against each other, a toenail itching to leave a tell-tale mark on skin . . .)

It's beyond comfort, or the feeling of being safe and utterly accepted without having to offer anything.

To be exact, it's _nothing_ like the house Gavreel grew up in.

_  
  
  
  


_"Huwag niyong kalimutan patayin yung ilaw sa may terrace 'pag matutulog na kayo, ha?"_

After her last nightly reminder, Cairo's mom shuts the door with a click.

Cairo showers first. It gives Gavreel the time to check his phone, see if there are any messages.

When Cairo steps out of the bathroom, he's changed into an old orange tank top and a pair of cotton shorts.

Gavreel lazily turns off his phone, and places it on top of the bedside drawer. "Tapos ka na?"

"Teka lang, mag-totoothbrush muna ako." Cairo replies, grabbing a fresh face towel from his closet before going back to the bathroom.

His newly shampooed hair, with the smell of fucking strawberries (Gavreel still remembers, _"Strawberries talaga, 'koy?" "Oo nga, mabango kasi 'e. Tsaka, naalala ko yung favorite color ko, kulay pink."),_ is dripping wet.

Gavreel takes a few seconds before walking up to him.

He flattens his palm on Cairo's lower back, steadying him to grab the towel he slung over his shoulder.

When Gavreel stares into his eyes through the mirror, it makes the skin of Cairo _shiver_ – and it's all so overwhelming, like a fluorescent light humming _'Look at us like this. Isn't this all you ever want to keep coming home to?'_

The mirror's drenched in haze, the cracks on its edges shimmering slightly, and the turquoise tiles behind it give off a contrast with the darkness of the night from the window.

He takes the towel, gently covering it around his best friend's head, drying his hair for him.

Gavreel hasn't stopped staring at him, trying without avail to quit smiling while drying his hair; _so see how hard it is for Cairo to continue brushing his teeth like this?_

On the last dab of cloth upon Cairo's head, for a second Gavreel presses his chest next to his back.

_  
  
  


Eventually, Cairo makes way for Gavreel to take a bath.

He hears sound of the faucet turning, the mum pitter-patter of bath water. He also listens to the shower curtain slide, the movement of the dipper sticking to the pail.

Cairo sees him, almost so vividly it's painful, that he knows Gavreel to be using the time to fill the bucket to brush his teeth, while looking for a song to play on _Spotify_ as he rinses his body. 

Until he turns off the electric fan, and sits carefully on the bed to overhear Gavreel's voice.

Gavreel's voice is agitated; his breathing is definitely weighed, that any minute he'll rip his hair out losing all control to bash his fist hard against his chest.

It's as if a tumultuous airplane crash has come, in the midst of a fucking signal 5 storm, and it happens to be spinning into the direction of a forest where fires have caught on trees.

The caller is Gavreel's older sister, Ate Stella, who's successfully left the province to fend a life for herself in Manila.

_"Bunso, pero alam mo namang ako nga ang mas hindi nakakatiis diyan sa ama natin, kasi ako yung umalis. Pagod na pagod na akong patawarin siya, paulit-ulit na lang."_

Gavreel heaves a sigh, frustratedly he answers back, "Ate naman, bakasyon pa naman namin ngayon, bakit kasi nadating yung hudas na 'yun ngayon?"

_"Hindi ko rin alam pero panigurado kailangan natin mag-ingat kung anuman 'yung rason kasi biglaan 'to. Pero, beh, sige na please? Hindi pa kasi ako nakakaluwag sa ngayon, wala pa si ate na budget para lumuwas."_

He angrily washes his face with his hand, takes a deep breath and exhales.

So familiar to this, having done this multiple times in the course of his life, Gavreel effortlessly disguises the tremor in his voice when a tear slips.

"Huling taon na ni Cairo dito sa probinsya. Pagkatapos 'nun, hindi ko na naman alam kung makakahinga pa ako."

He easily pretends that he is numb, that no scientific genius can differentiate him from an emotionless robot, but he knows that even a fucking machine like the one he's become still has a kryptonite.

Gavreel continues, despite the aching lump stuck in his throat.

"Pagtapos nun . . . p-pagtapos nun, baka subukan ko munang mag-gap year, 'te. Alam ko naman na, hindi pa kaya ni mama. Pero huwag kang mag-alala, kasi handa naman ako rumacket, eh."

Cairo _is_ his downfall – perhaps his only clear "weakness", but one that he wants, chooses, and craves, to hit rock bottom of the earth for and slowly slip into death.

"Kaya kapag _iniwan_ na ako ni Cairo, p-pagbubutihin ko yung sarili ko. Para maging proud naman siya sa'kin, yung kahit kaunti lang."

Stella wants to hail a cab right now, no, she demands for a helicopter to quickly swing by to where her little brother is, to hold him tight in an embrace.

She wants to pat his back countlessly, whispering in his ear while she, too, cries – _ikaw na bata talaga, Gav-gav, ano ka ba? Proud yun sa'yo, dati pa. Tahan na._

_"Gav, hintay lang ha. Susubukan ko lahat para hindi ka mahirapan, kakayanin mo 'to. Pero . . . sa Sabado nga? Maasahan ka ba namin na ikaw na muna sa Saturday sumalubong kay papa?"_

Cairo moves closer to the bathroom, and while technically divided by a wooden entryway, it's as if they're magnets – Gavreel ever so in sync with him, lightly pounds his head on the door as soon as the former sits on his back to the piece of furniture. 

"Sige nga, ate."

_"Okay. Thank you talaga bunso, ha?"_

"Mhmm."

_"Gavreel?"_

"Andito pa ako, ate. Naririnig pa rin kita, hindi ko pa ine-end yung call."

_"Matulog ka na agad pagkatapos neto, ah. Tsaka, 'loko ka ah? Mahal ka nun. Yung katulad mo na bagets na kasabay mo lumaki, naka-brip lang kayo na naghahabulan sa kalsada – amoy bungang-araw magdamag, tsaka nagtatampisaw sa ulan magkasama."_

Despite his sniffles, and his already damp t-shirt, Gavreel's lips began to twitch a smile.

Just directly behind him, Cairo does too. He even covers his mouth quickly, hoping Gavreel didn't hear him snicker at the mention of their childhood memories.

But their smiles, just as quickly fades.

"Opo na, ate. Sana, sana. Charing lang 'yun. Nagpapakabait naman ako–,"

Stella _hates_ herself for doing this, but still firmly tells him.

_"Ayoko 'tong paalalahin sa'yo, kaso kilala mo naman si papa. Baka siguro, huwag mo na lang isama si Cairo sa pagsundo mo sa kanya sa Saturday?"_

Cairo immediately jerks in his sitting position, opting to stand up instead. He's a little guilty, ashamed, and scared that he's entered an illegal territory with the two siblings.

Because he knows, _damn it,_ he fucking knows where this is going.

"Putang **ama,** heto na naman tayo. Ako na anak niya – bakla – pa'no ba papasok sa kukote niya na kahit kailan, _hindi kasalanan_ ang pagiging bakla!"

_"Pucha. Alam ko 'yun, at tamang-tama ka dun. Pero hanggang wala ako diyan para protektahan ka – o si Kuya Ken, gusto ko lang naman makaiwas ka, bunso."_

"Pwes, hindi ako papayag. Napakaraming oras na ang sinayang ko, sa pagpaparaya sa _pagkamakasarili_ ng matandang 'yun. Panahon na rin para tanggapin ni papa, at ng buong punyetang lipunan na 'to – kung sino ako, kung sino si Cairo, kung sino ang gustong mahalin ng sinuman na ibang tao."

And, hell yes. Gavreel wants to quote a line from one of their favorite Netflix shows, 'Sense 8': _"Who gives a fuck who I fuck?"_

_"Mismo, oo. Bunso, kakampi mo ako okay? Marami pa kami na gustong lalaban sa tabi mo, pero – tama ka. Pag-planuhan na lang muna natin sa Lunes. Pa-gabi na, kailangan ko na rin matulog."_

Cairo hears all of this.

He wants to barge into the bathroom, to be the exact hands that wipe Gavreel's tears away.

But if only such desire was stronger, than his thoughts of _Bumalik ka na agad dito, mahal, pwede ba?_

_Kailangan mo nang magpahinga sa tabi ko, tititigan pa natin magkasama ang kisame sa katahimikan habang unti-unti akong makatulog._

_Para mapayapang paniginipan ko tayo; pero kahit pa sa mga segundo na mababalot na ang paningin ko sa kadiliman ng pag-idlip, nakikita ko, kitang-kita ko pa rin . . ._

_Ikaw at ako._

_Masaya. Tanggap. Pinagmamalaki._

_Pinaglaban._

That's the only Cairo and Gavreel that _lives on_ in his mind, no matter how many other versions float in between.

_  
  


When Gavreel finally comes out of the bathroom, his messy heap of curls are still wet.

His eyes are no longer stinging red, because well. He spent time showering to squeeze the tears out of his eyes, taking more than the usual five to seven minutes, but it's fine.

Gavreel's eyes are still sore, and he's probably going to catch a cold.

But Cairo notices each one of these tiny details.

He's too concentrated; able to fit his lenses around the entirety of Gavreel's physique, yet at the same time in constant magnifying of his best friend's – bone per bone . . . dimple after dimple . . . scars and scars . . . inches of hair.

Then he adds a mental note to remind Gavreel to take a pill of _Neozep_ in the morning, so that he'll avoid having a stuffy nose.

The bedside lamp is the remaining source of light in the room. It gleams a quiet shade of warm yellow.

Cairo's wrapped himself up in his bedroom's thin sheets, because he didn't want to waste any time fixing his sleeping arrangements when Gavreel comes back.

He pretends to have fallen asleep already, doing little snores. He's even got his mouth opened a little, to create a more believable effect.

It's when Gavreel has faced him, now lying beside him ( _finally, jesus_ ) that he suddenly turns his back on Cairo.

He decides? Has his best friend decided to lie on his side for tonight, to not cage Cairo in his arms and fall asleep together just by listening to their breathing . . . or the clangrous motherfuckers going _dug, dug, dug, dugdugdugdugdugdug,_ that lives behind the breastbone and betwixt the lungs.

Gavreel presses 'off' on the lamp, tucking himself into his side of the bed (still not facing Cairo, _god, why_ ). He carefully lifts the blanket covering his best friend, scooting a bit (just? a bit?) closer to drape some of the fabric over his body.

The room is in complete darkness. Not a particle to be seen.

Yet, Cairo surely waits not for long, just a fucking picosecond which equates to 0.000 000 000 001 seconds.

He waits before, he doesn't have to, he really doesn't, because Gavreel _doesn't_ waste that calculated one trillionth, or maybe one millionth of one millionth of a second, to drag Cairo's weight close to him.

_Pwede ka pa rin lumuha ngayon, baby ko. Dito mismo sa mga pisngi ko – ako ang sasalo ng bawat patak ng kalungkutan at takot mo._

But, Cairo's not a fool – he must know that it's already futile for Gavreel to cry, because he _can't_ make the boy sad.

Never intentionally, for as long as Gavreel can remember.

Gavreel softly touches with his fingers the collar of Cairo's tank top, and the latter is wondering what he aims to do. 

_Ikaw ang nagmamay-ari ng puso 'ko, sobra pa sa pangangailangan ang tahanan na ibinigay mo rito._

He raises his fist in between them, it occupies a small space in the wrinkled sheets, then rests it just above where his heart is beating.

He moves it away, pressing his lips onto his palm, and back he clamps his fist shut – locking his heart and a kiss in the inside.

Gavreel first thought about kissing the boy beside him's forehead, but instead he gently lands his closed fist (a treasure chest that contains his beating muscle organ and a kiss) above Cairo's own chest.

_Buhay ko, ipinagkakatiwala ko sa'yo ang aking puso. Kahit na matagal mo nang ninakaw. Kahit matagal mo nang nabuksan._

_Kagaya mo ako, ikaw na tinuturing buhay ko rin; magiging malaya rin tayo. Heto, saluhin mo rin ang aking puso kahit na matagal mo na rin'g ninakaw. Kahit matagal mo na rin'g nabuksan._

He connected their hearts, but somehow Gavreel still fears the thousands of weapons that can easily pierce this string through.  
  
  



End file.
